


To fix you

by liionne



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones gets in a bar fight, so Jim patches him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To fix you

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I said I'd write Jim taking care of Bones, and here it is.

Bones found himself fumbling to get the right key-code to his apartment fifteen minutes after he’d left the bar, although how he’d gotten there without being stopped he wasn’t entirely sure. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten there full-stop. But he was at the apartment, where he could flop down and pass out, or die, or whichever came first, and that was what mattered.

He’d had a feeling that going out without Jim was a bad idea, but he couldn’t exactly just invite him to the Enterprise Medical Staff Annual Bar Crawl - he might have been Bones’ boyfriend, but to everyone else he was the Captain.

Even if they all loved him to pieces and would have been more than happy to have him there. Jim insisted he couldn’t.

“As much as I love a good bar crawl, Bones, I’ll leave you to it.” He’d said, and slapped Bones on the shoulder before catching the eye roll he gave him and pressing his lips to the doctor’s gently. “Have fun.”

He had been having fun. Until he overheard that Irish bastard Finnegan bad-mouthing his Captain-cum-Boyfriend.

God bless M’Benga. He’d tried so hard to hold him back. Unlike Chapel, who’d screamed encouragement at him from the booth they’d been sat in whilst Bones pinned him to a table and broke his jaw with his fist.

Bones tried to push it all to the back of his mind as he stumbled into the apartment.

“Bones?” Jim was sat in the living room, that was kinda the kitchen too because there was no wall separating them or anything, just a step, but that was beside the point. Jim was grinning as he turned to look at him. “You’re back ear- Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell happened!?”

Jim practically threw himself across the room, clambering over the back of the sofa and at Bones’ side faster than either of them had thought humanly possible. He looked at the cut above his eyebrow and his split lip and the blood running from his nose, and then he covered his hand with his mouth.

So yeah, Bones had been beating the shit of Finnegan. And then Finnegan had gotten up and beaten the shit out of him. Bones had just regained the upper hand when he was kicked out of the bar. He’d brushed off every member of his team that had tried to walk him home, and then ruined his jacket sleeve by using it to soak up some of the blood running from his nose.

“You should see the other guy.” He said weakly, tasting blood.

Jim just pursed his lips. Was this what Bones looked like when Jim had staggered home in those academy days? He sure as hell hoped not.

“Go sit down, Rocky.” Jim muttered, nodding towards the tiny kitchen table. Bones did as he was told, shrugging out of his bloodied jacket to find an even more bloodied t-shirt beneath it. He sighed. In his attempt to defend Jim’s honour he’d ruined two of his favourite items of clothing.

Jim returned with the med kit Bones kept under the bed, and the good doctor rolled his eyes. “What you planning’ on doin’ with that?” He drawled, alcohol going to his head and drawing out his accent.

Jim smiled a little. “Going to patch up you. Someone’s got to, you’re leaving blood splatters on the carpet.”

“You have no idea what you’re doin’-” Bones began, but Jim snorted.

“Bones, please-” He raised his eyebrows at him. “I’ve let you me clean me up more times than I can count. I know the drill by now.”

Bones didn’t argue. The kid was a genius, but he really didn’t need to be to know what to do by now. He really had sat through it more times than Bones could remember.

Jim took an antiseptic wipe to his face, cleaning away the dry blood that seemed to coat every part of his skin. It stung when it hit exposed flesh, but Bones did little more than wince.

“No pain relief in there?” He muttered through gritted teeth.

Jim chuckled. “You’re the one who always said a little suffering’s good for the soul.”

“I never said that.” Bones snapped.

Jim raised an eyebrow; Bones sighed. No pain relief for him, it seemed.

Jim took out the dermal regenerator Bones had permanently ’borrowed’ from work - and replaced out of his own pocket, he wasn’t a thief - and with little struggle switched it on, healing first the deep gash above his eyebrow.

“So how’d it happen?” Jim asked.

It was a question Bones was familiar with, but he was definitely more accustomed to asking the question rather than answering. They’d gotten to the point now where, after four year, Bones would just say, “So?” and Jim would give him the whole story, long-winded and exaggerated and always ending in Jim getting the shit beaten out of him.

“Saw that asshole Finnegan in the bar.” Bones shrugged. It was a bad move; his shoulders hurt from being pinned to the floor.

“What, so you jumped on him?” Jim asked.

With a small huff, Bones muttered, “You make me sound feral.” Jim didn’t respond, so with another little huff, he continued, “He was bad mouthin’ you. Sayin’ you were a bad Captain and you’d never be good for nothing’ and-” He stopped himself when he saw Jim arch an eyebrow. “-and so I punched him. Several times. In the jaw.”

“Bet that was fun.” Jim smirked.

“Most fun I’ve had in years.” A smirk tugged at the corner of Bones’ lips, but it was lost quickly when Jim turned the regen on his lip.

“No one try to stop you?” Jim asked.

“M’Benga tried-” His voice was muffled, trying not to move his lips. “-Christine just encouraged. She’s the feral one. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Jim chuckled. “Hell, I’d have loved to see that. And I won’t, don’t worry. Not this time.” He turned the regen off and put it back in the med kit. He closed it up, and set it down on the table. “Your clothes are gross, y’know that?”

“’S just a bit’a blood, Jim.” Bones muttered. ‘A bit’ was an understatement.

“Give it here.” Jim held a hand out for his shirt, holding his jacket in the other. Bones pulled it over his head, feeling his shoulders ache as he did, and handed it to Jim, who proceeded to put it in the washing machine. Bones raised an eyebrow.

“Since when were you so domesticated?” He marvelled.

“Since my boyfriend came home spitting blood.” Jim smirked. He walked back to stand in front of Bones, who tilted his head back to look up at him. He felt a trickle of blood run back into his head and fought the urge to wince. Or gag. Or both.

“Thank you,” Jim murmured, hand reaching up to touch his cheek, caress the grazed skin there that he didn’t clean up because a bruised and bloodied Bones was a hot Bones. He ran the thumb of his other hand over the deep black ring around his eye; he’d left that one as punishment rather than because it totally turned him on.

“For what?” Bones muttered.

Jim gave a small smile, almost looking tired. “For defending me like the Southern Gentleman you are.”

Well that certainly made Bones smile.

“And for coming home rather than going to the hospital.” Jim added. “’Cause you’re totally hot when you’re bleeding and slightly drunk.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “I’m glad my pain gives you pleasure.”

“I’m sure we can make this pleasurable for you too.” Jim mused; he was using that sultry tone again that always made Bones’ stomach twist.

“We can always try.” He muttered, pulling Jim’s hips roughly against his, and kissing him hard, tasting like copper and cheap beer and that taste that Jim could only ever call Bones.

If Bones looked hot when he was bloodied and bruised, then Bones naked on the kitchen table whilst bloodied and bruised was something else entirely.


End file.
